Just as Planned
by acid rounds
Summary: Stop. Think. Are you injecting yourself with the G virus? Is this your best possible course of action? An alternate universe story in which William Birkin revives as a less abominable monster, Raccoon City is never wiped out, and Wesker takes the Birkin family on a road trip. Told in memos, letters, and diaries.
1. Never Underestimate a Birkin

**Author's note** : Backstory time! A friend and I were making a more direct translation of the original Japanese Umbrella Chronicles, just for funsies, when she turned to me and she asked: "what would have happened if Birkin had resurrected like Wesker, instead of turning into an abomination?"

Lo, this fic was born.

Several lines and ideas contributed by aforementioned friend. I wrote this while listening to the Niels Martreb electro remix of Sound of Silence, so pull that up on youtube if you want the full experience.

 **Chapter 1: Never Underestimate a Birkin when Death is on the Line**

* * *

Memo for Oswell Spencer

April 12, 1998

Sir Spencer,

As requested, I have delivered the final selection virus to Dr. William Birkin, with the understanding that he must convince Subject 013 to take it. Knowing how close they have grown, despite our efforts, I was afraid he would refuse without some extra persuasion. However, he all but grabbed it out of my hands. It seems his lust for science overpowers even friendship.

I am confident that we will be able to view the results in Albert within a few weeks. However, I do worry that Dr. Birkin may try to study the virus before delivering it. Perhaps he was not the best choice for this task?

Regards,

-J

* * *

Researcher's Memo

April 14, 1998

J,

No need for worry.

G will soon finish. Birkin's usefulness is near an end.

Let him find what he will.

-Spencer

* * *

Researcher's Memo

May 12th, 1998

J,

013's physical showed no evidence of virus.

Explain.

-Spencer

* * *

Memo for Oswell Spencer

May 13th, 1998

Sir Spencer,

As I feared, sir, Birkin is taking his time studying the virus. It seems he is not content to use it until he has dissected it completely. I tried to imply a threat to his G project to move things along, but he only laughed at me. The hubris, that he thinks his project is untouchable!

There has been a lot of maniacal laughter from his laboratory. I have a bad feeling about this...

-J

* * *

Researcher's Memo

May 15th, 1998

J,

Laughter normal. Disregard.

Mansion outbreak has made time a factor. See that virus has been delivered before subject 013's fall physical, by whatever means necessary.

-Spencer.

* * *

Note found shoved in the police locker of Albert Wesker

I NEED YOUR BLOOD

-W

* * *

Note found shoved under the door of the Birkin home

Will,

For the 100th time I am not a registered test subject. You have dozens of people to choose from if you need an emergency donor.

* * *

Note found hidden in the desk of Albert Wesker

It has to be yours. I've discovered something big but I need your special blood type to test it. This could be the answer we've been looking for.

* * *

Fax to the home of Dr. Birkin

June 10th, 1998

Then _stop leaving a paper trail_. Talk to me face to face like a normal person. 8 pm, tonight.

* * *

Diary of Sherry Birkin

6/10/98

Uncle Wesker came over for dinner last night!

I like it when he comes because he always gives me books and makes sure I have enough ramen.

But I overheard a really weird conversation late at night after I was supposed to be in bed. I got up to use the bathroom, and dad and Uncle Wesker were arguing in the living room. I could see them from the top of the stairs.

Uncle Wesker was pointing to his face and saying, "THIS must stay the same. It is paramount."

I think Paramount is a company that makes movies.

And dad said, "But the combat potential of tentacles-"

And Uncle Wesker said, "No tentacles. No extra eyeballs. Nothing. You know how important this is for my side job." And he pointed to his face again.

I didn't know Uncle Wesker had a side job. I thought being a police officer was a lot of work. I wonder what else he does?

Anyway, dad said, "They can't even see you over the phone! You are too vain sometimes."

And mom, I guess she was up too, yelled from the kitchen, "Mutations could affect the voice box, honey," and dad agreed.

Maybe they were talking about an octopus? I like octopus. They're cute and Mrs. Brady says they're really smart.

* * *

Note shoved under the door of the Birkin home

We're running out of time. Bring it with you to the training facility.

* * *

Incident Report

July 25, 1998

Pertaining to the incidents at the Arklay Training Facility and Mansion Lab, July 23-24, 1998.

As of 1800 hours on the night of the incident, agent Albert Wesker and Dr. William Birkin were dispatched to reclaim the old training facility. Wesker was to direct delta team while Dr. Birkin's role was to assess the status of the facilities. I want it noted that I did object to their assignment together, yet I was overridden by Lord Spencer, who insists their flaws complement each other.

The first team sent into the facility disturbed a wasp nest we could not expect. We soon lost contact with them, and shortly after, the nearby Arklay mansion and a train carrying the night shift of lab employees were attacked by infected leeches. The Arklay mansion was still struggling to contain a previous outbreak from last May, and this proved the final straw for our security there.

The 'wild' strain spread by the leeches acted far faster than the weapons under development at Arklay. Death and zombification of the infected occurred within hours, flooding all affected areas with the undead.

Wesker and Birkin's response to this crisis was to watch safely from the monitor room while the rest of their men died. Wesker then decided his time was better spent elsewhere and left the training facility. I confronted him, and it was as I was reprimanding his conduct that the facility self-destructed. Wesker had the nerve to smirk at me before slipping off. I revoked his security clearance at the first opportunity.

I cannot say which of them blew up the facility. Wesker tried to imply it was his own doing, but my money is on Dr. Birkin, who then evacuated back to the city without notifying anyone of his departure.

Wesker proceeded to regroup with his pet S.T.A.R.S. team, the special forces division of the R.P.D. whose creation he insisted would benefit Umbrella. Recently they have been nothing but a nuisance, so I had ordered him to terminate them. Wesker decided the best way to fulfill that order was to bring them to the then-overrun Arklay mansion, and collect data on their performance against our B.O.W.s. To my surprise, this had official sanction from security.

I am not sure what knucklehead authorized a mission to invite the local police to our illegal laboratory. It was not cleared with me beforehand.

At this point I knew the mansion was done for, so I hurried to retrieve the T.A.L.O.S. specimen and our data backup before anyone got twitchy near the self-destruct device. When I returned to the Raccoon office, I had a notice waiting for me that Arklay's self-destruct had indeed been activated. This time I knew it must be Wesker's doing.

Review of the surviving security footage indicates Wesker improperly programmed a tyrant before attempting to set it on the surviving S.T.A.R.S., and as a result, it killed him. A fitting end to his incompetence. In the end, even the tyrant could not manage to wipe S.T.A.R.S. out, and five members escaped by helicopter back to Raccoon. We will need to move quickly in order to silence their testimony. Police chief Irons has already been warned and is standing by to shut down any further investigation.

Signed: Sergei Vladimir

Additional note: I will be keeping the footage of Wesker's death for personal review. Anyone else wishing to inspect the footage is welcome to stop by my office.

* * *

Note found stuck to Dr. Birkin's lab desk with a four-inch piece of steel shrapnel

No one told me Lisa was still active

* * *

Note found written on back of previous note

She wasn't that hard to outrun you big baby

Do you have a place to stay?

* * *

Obituary column of Raccoon City Herald

July 29, 1998

Albert Wesker, 38, died in the line of duty July 24th, 1998, when during the course of an investigation, he and his team were caught in a gas line explosion.

Services will take place at 10 a.m. Saturday at Raccoon Memorial.

He was a respected member of the R.P.D., and the leader and founder of its S.T.A.R.S. team.

He has no surviving family.

* * *

Diary of Sherry Birkin

7/29/98

Mom and dad were laughing at something in the newspaper this morning. I went to look after they left the room and it was the obituaries page. That seems mean to laugh at.

Then I saw an obituary for Uncle Wesker. At least, I think it was him. How many Albert Weskers are there?

Someone at the newspaper must have made a mistake. Uncle Wesker's not dead, he's staying in our basement while his house gets fumigated. Maybe that's why mom and dad were laughing. I hope none of his other friends get upset.

* * *

Diary of Sherry Birkin

8/3/98

There was a man in a really nice suit wandering around outside today. He didn't look mean to me, but mom and dad got really nervous.

Uncle Wesker told me that if a man like that comes in the house and goes through dad's things, I should hit him with a tire iron until he stops moving.

Dad got really mad at him for that. He said something about setting me up to repeat their mistakes, and then he told me what to do with the body after it stops moving. It sounds really complicated, I hope I can remember it.

* * *

Memo to Dr. Birkin

August 4th, 1998

Official Reprimand

The company would like to remind Dr. Birkin of the correct procedures and protocols involved before the triggering of the self-destruct system in any company property, and furthermore, that doing so is not the most productive way to reclaim a facility.

The chief of security has also expressed complaint that he was nearly caught in the blast and should have been consulted before such a drastic step was taken.

Signed,

-Harold Gerlach, White Umbrella Liaison

* * *

Memo to White Umbrella Liaison

August 7th, 1998

Gerlap,

The decision to destroy the old training facility was made and carried out by that renegade operative, Albert Wesker, and I will thank you not to blame me for it just because he is dead.

That being said, I stand by the decision as being _Completely Necessary_ given the proliferation of infected subjects loose within the facility.

I also respectfully request that the company reevaluate its disposal method of seemingly deceased test subjects. This incident has proven that lobbing the bodies into the sewer following a short decontamination bath is _insufficient_. I would strongly advise for the procurement of an incinerator for future disposals.

-Dr. William Birkin

* * *

Diary of Sherry Birkin

8/25/98

Uncle Wesker has gone out of town.

I'm not alone at home as much though, because dad's been here a lot more. He's working in the basement all the time. I keep hearing a lot of laughing, and the kind of words I'm not supposed to know yet.

I guess he has a lot of fun working.

* * *

Memo to Oswell Spencer

September 19, 1998

Sir Spencer,

G is entering its final testing phase, and I am confident it will be completed in a matter of weeks.

I believe it is time to offer certain scientists their retirement package. Dr. Birkin has become increasingly unstable after the death of subject 013, and on top of that, he has come under scrutiny by the surviving S.T.A.R.S. members.

Colonel Vladimir reports that several government agents have been sniffing around the Raccoon lab, and is afraid they may already have made contact with the doctor. I'm sure you will agree this is a vital security issue which must be resolved as quickly as possible.

Regards,

-J

* * *

Researcher's Memo

September 19, 1998

J,

The retirement is authorized. As soon as G has finished testing, and not an hour before.

I want G on my desk within the week.

-Spencer

* * *

Footage taken from Raccoon Lab Security Camera

10:36 pm 9/26/98

View is of Dr. Birkin standing at a lab table. He picks up a purple vial, chuckles to himself, and looks over his shoulder at something. These actions loop for about five minutes.

The feed goes black for 5 seconds. When it comes back, Dr. Birkin is lying with his back against the table, his torso covered in bullet holes. He appears to have difficulty breathing and is still clutching the purple vial in his hand.

Annette Birkin rushes in to the scene.

"William! Oh, god...hang on, darling. I'm going to take care of those bullet wounds first."

Annette Birkin runs off camera.

Dr. Birkin looks down at the vial in his hand. He reaches for a syringe injector, then stops. Instead, he hauls himself across the floor to another desk just at the edge of the camera's view, and opens a secret drawer. He takes out a vial of sickly pink colored substance. He inserts this into the syringe injector, and shoots the substance into his stomach.

After convulsing briefly, Dr. Birkin collapses to the floor and stops moving.

Annette Birkin returns on screen with a first aid kid in hand.

"No! I..."

She falls to her knees and begins sobbing.

"Just two minutes, William, why couldn't you...why couldn't you wait two minutes?"

The sobbing goes on for several minutes.

William Birkin sits up and seizes her shoulders.

"Annette what's wrong? Is it G? Did something happen to it?"

Annette chokes down a scream. "G-G?" She looks around. "They must have taken it. But William-"

"I'll kill them! No one steals my creation from me!" Dr. Birkin jumps to his feet. "Where did I put my gun-?"

Annette also gets to her feet. She grabs Dr. Birkin's arm.

" _William, you died._ "

"What?"

Dr. Birkin looks down at his own bullet-riddled body.

"Oh. _Oh._ " He looks around frantically, then returns to the secret drawer. "The antibodies! I have to stabilize it with the antibodies!"

"What are we going to do? William, they killed you!"

"I know! We have to...We have to get G back, and then, oh I don't know. Call Albert! He'll know what to do." Dr. Birkin looks up at the camera. "We have to destroy all the evidence. All of it."

* * *

Diary of Sherry Birkin

9/26/98

Dad came home really excited today and said the whole family is going on a road trip! I've heard other kids talk about their vacations but I never thought I'd go on one! Mom and dad work so much all the time, we never get to go anywhere. I haven't even been outside the city. And Uncle Wesker is coming with us! No one will tell me where we're going though.

The adults have all been running around and yelling at each other a lot. They seem really stressed. I think that's normal for vacations. Dad's been packing up a lot of stuff from the basement lab. I hope he's not going to work the whole time. Mom's trying to shove my whole closet into a suitcase. How long are we going to be gone for?

She told me to bring anything really important to me. I don't have a lot like that...I picked out my favorite books and the locket dad gave me for my birthday. Mom was really happy when she saw the locket. She grinned REALLY big and yelled down the stairs that they didn't have to go back to the lab.

When dad saw my locket, he laughed and called himself a genius while spinning me in circles. Maybe he's drunk? It was kind of scary, the way he was laughing. Uncle Wesker shoved him and told him to go change his shirt before we go. It looks like he got it covered in cranberry juice again.

They've got everything packed into the car, so we're setting off now. Looks like I'm going to have a lot more to write about soon!

I wonder why daddy was wearing sunglasses after dark? Maybe he's trying to be cool like Uncle Wesker.

* * *

Memo to Chief of Security

September 26, 1998

Sergei,

Who authorized the self-destruct system in the Raccoon Lab?

I want their head.

-Spencer

* * *

Memo to Oswell Spencer

September 26, 1998

Sir Spencer,

The records indicate the code used belonged to Dr. Birkin, but this is impossible. Agent HUNK confirmed termination of the target hours beforehand.

It is possible his wife used his codes instead of her own. Perhaps she was feeling vengeful? We have not been able to locate her or the Birkin child, Sherry. My men are tracking them down as I write this.

A note was left at the lab entrance, just outside the blast radius. We have not yet determined if it has any connection. I have attached a copy of the note for your inspection.

Everything for Umbrella,

\- Sergei Vladimir

* * *

Memo Attachment

TRUST ME IT WAS COMPLETELY NECESSARY

PS: Your retirement plan has proven to be inconsequential data as pertains to my own long-term operations. I therefore recommend you do with it as you do with all your unwanted assets: shove it in a dark place that you only hope never gets audited.

* * *

Diary of Sherry Birkin

9/27/98

We're going to Europe! I'm so excited I can hardly stand it!

Uncle Wesker gave us all special passports and we're waiting at the airport for the next flight to Nantes (that's in France!). Then we're going to drive through a whole bunch of different countries and see all kinds of things!

Oh and I LEARNED A REALLY BIG THING!

Uncle Wesker said we need to make a side trip to Edonia (where is that? I don't remember it from geography class), to pick up his SON.

Uncle Wesker has a kid?! Yeah! Even dad was really surprised!

He said, "How many years have we known each other, and you never told me you had a son?" and his voice got kind of screechy the way it does when he's excited.

And Uncle Wesker twisted around and looked at me, and then he looked at dad, and he said, "William, I hardly trust you with your own offspring. Why would I tell you about mine?"

Dad's still pouting about it.

So I guess we'll get to meet him soon! I wonder how old he is? Is he my age? Does he like to read? I didn't bring any of my board games but maybe we can play cards. Yeah! I can teach him how to play rummy!

This trip is going to be the best!

* * *

 **End Note** : William Birkin is definitely a stable, well-adjusted individual who had a perfectly normal vicious rivalry with a 10-year-old girl and considers self-injection of dangerous mutagenic viruses the best response to being shot.


	2. Mad Scientists' Wacky European Adventure

**Chapter 2** : **Mad Scientists' Wacky European Adventure**

Or, In Which Sights are Seen, Offspring are Collected, and Umbrella Refuses to Let Anyone Have Fun in Peace.

* * *

Article from Cryptid Hunters International

October Edition, 1998

The Vampiro Sumergido

This sighting comes to you from the beaches of Spain, where a new and unknown creature has just made an appearance. The Vampiro Sumergido, as locals are calling it, is a pale and gangly red-eyed humanoid that has the ability to pass as human if it hides its eyes. It can demonstrate superhuman strength and speed, and one observer even reported seeing tentacles hidden under its baggy shirt.

Apparently frustrated by convoluted human umbrella rental fees, the enraged Vampiro Sumergido lifted the rental kiosk over its head and threw it, the beach equipment, and the attendant all the way down to the surf. The attendant emerged full of bruises and splinters, but was otherwise fine.

A brave yet foolhardy American tourist in a red Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses dropped his Bloody Mary and tackled the Vampiro Sumergido, attempting to drag it off before it could harm a young girl playing nearby. Unfortunately, the creature subdued him with a great amount of flailing and carried him down into the water. Neither the tourist nor the creature ever re-emerged. Let us take a moment to honor this poor soul, who has no doubt been gutted and skinned by now.

When we contacted the local authorities on the matter, we were told that "a drunk with novelty contact lenses does not merit investigation." But this hunter knows the truth is darker than they can imagine.

Keep searching for the truth, believers!

-Ken Longtail

* * *

Diary of Sherry Birkin

10/4/98

Spain was so much fun! Uncle Wesker finished the "little matter he had to look into" and now we're heading towards Edonia.

I don't think this trip was planned very well. They try not to do it when I can hear them, but the adults have been worrying about the budget a lot.

Dad doesn't want to touch any of the money he put aside for 'research' (I thought research was something you got paid for?). Anyway, I guess Uncle Wesker has been paying for our trip with his side job. I still don't know what it is, but he can do it over the phone. Maybe he does insurance interviews or something like Cindy's mom.

Mom wanted him to put in extra hours, but he said, "There simply aren't any more hours in the day. Unless you would like me to do it in the car, in front of Sherry?"

Then mom turned pink and wouldn't meet his eyes. Now I really want to know what it is he does! Is this one of those adult things?

So I guess we're looking for a place to stay for a while so they can work.

* * *

Memo to Oswell Spencer

October 6th, 1998

Sir Spencer,

Chief Irons has failed us yet again. I am beginning to question the wisdom of keeping him on our payroll. Perhaps it is time we cut him loose.

A young woman was asking around the R.P.D. for one of the surviving S.T.A.R.S. members. Apparently, she is his sister. Those idiots gave her the man's belongings, including his diary, without even checking through them to make sure they held nothing incriminating for the company.

She has been lurking around the ruins of the Raccoon lab and investigating the parts of Raccoon forest which we are keeping off limits. Now she has hopped on a plane and left the country.

The last thing we need are more loose ends. I am requesting additional agents to track her down.

Everything for Umbrella,

-Sergei Vladimir

* * *

Memo to Chief of Security

October 6th, 1998

Sergei,

Ordinarily I would call you paranoid.

You are right. We are in no position to take chances.

I want her and the remaining Birkin family tracked down as soon as possible.

-Spencer

* * *

Mercenary's Note

17.10.1998

Kincaid,

Your loyal service over the past 6 years has been commendable. Due to unforeseen circumstances, I will be suspending our contract for the indefinite future.

I'm taking over stewardship of the targets myself for that period.

Remain in the area for one more month to root out any Umbrella operatives who come sniffing for our trail. Then, feel free to take a vacation. Your fee will be wired to the usual account.

-A. W.

* * *

Diary of Sherry Birkin

10/18/98

Edonia's not as nice as Spain or Germany.

We got here early this morning. There's not a lot to do here, so Mom and I waited in the hotel room while dad and Uncle Wesker took care of some things. I don't like the hotel. It's really dirty and I saw a cockroach in the bathroom.

A little after dark, Uncle Wesker came back with his son Jake! Jake didn't look very happy about it. I don't think I'd be happy either if Uncle Wesker held me under his arm like a football. Jake is a lot smaller than me. He's like half my size! He must be about 5.

Uncle Wesker didn't explain anything. He just said, "Pack up, we're leaving."

I was surprised because I thought we were going to go to Jake's house. Did he not have a house? I was glad we weren't going to stay the night in that yucky place though.

Then dad burst in behind Uncle Wesker and said, "She's coming!"

So Uncle Wesker turned to him and said, "How did she catch up to you? She has the max speed of a lame tortoise."

And before dad could say anything else, someone banged on the door so hard it shook dust off the wall. Dad hid behind Uncle Wesker. Uncle Wesker sighed and set Jake down on the floor. Then he opened the door.

There was a woman there. She was hanging off the door frame like she could barely stay upright. She was short, and pale in a sick kind of way, and breathing hard, and really angry.

She started yelling in a language I don't know, and pointed at Uncle Wesker. Jake ran over and hid behind her skirt.

Uncle Wesker said, "Darling, I already explained it to you. This is the best way."

She kept yelling, and he said something back in that same language. Maybe it's Edonian? Edonish? I should check in the guide book.

Mom asked, "Is this the mother?"

Uncle Wesker pinched the bridge of his nose and said, "Yes. She wants to come with us, even though she is clearly not in good enough condition to travel."

She said, "Good enough to chase your sorry-" and then she said some bad words. Even though she could barely stand, she pushed off the door frame and walked up to Uncle Wesker just so she could stab her finger at his chest while she yelled some more.

She started to fall, so Uncle Wesker caught her by the shoulders and held her up. She still didn't stop yelling. I was worried what the people next door would think.

Uncle Wesker waited until she had to catch her breath, and then he said, "It's not that I don't understand your position, but we're going to be moving constantly and doing dangerous business. We won't have the resources or the time to care for a sick woman."

Then mom said, "Actually...Sherry's old enough to look after herself, but Jake is younger. We won't be able to watch them much of the time. Perhaps we could use a babysitter?"

Everyone argued about it for a while. I got closer so I could get a better look at Jake. He was very shy and he wouldn't look me in the eyes.

Finally Uncle Wesker told mom, "Fine. You can be the one to figure out how we'll all fit in the car."

Mom muttered something about getting a bigger car. I thought our rental car was big when we got it, but by the time we put all our stuff into it there was barely any room left in the backseat.

Then Uncle Wesker lowered his voice and said something really scary. I wouldn't have heard it, if I hadn't been standing so close.

He said, "Those people are still going to be after me. They'll come after Jake, too."

What people?! Are we in some kind of trouble? Is this because of the thing dad destroyed at that beach?

The woman leaned into his chest and laughed a little, but not in a happy way. She said, "Then I hit them with my frying pan."

Uncle Wesker smirked. He picked her up the way monsters carry women in old movie posters, and told us to bring the bags.

It's a tight fit, and I'm half on dad's lap right now as I'm writing, but mom got all of us in the car. We're going to head back through Germany, so maybe I'll get to see Berlin this time.

I wonder how much longer we're going to stay on vacation? It's so much fun!

* * *

Memo to Chief of Security

October 23rd, 1998

Colonel Vladimir,

We've recovered some of the security footage from the Raccoon Lab. I've included everything relevant from the night of the explosion.

You're not going to like this.

-agent H.U.N.K.

* * *

Unofficial safety notice posted on wall beside the office of Sergei Vladimir

Attention all employees who wish to keep their limbs/positions/DNA intact: Do not disturb the chief unless you have news that is VERY important or VERY good.

Addendum: Do not be alarmed by loud crashes/thumping noises coming from within office.

* * *

Researcher's Memo

October 23rd, 1998

J,

Put subject 013 back on the list of surviving Wesker children.

-Spencer

* * *

Note found crumpled in the trash can of a Berlin hotel

Albert,

They know.

-A

* * *

Diary of Sherry Birkin

10/28/17

Jake's mom is really nice when she's not yelling.

She has me helping Jake learn English. He's still really quiet and he never wants to play cards. That's ok though. We have enough things to do.

I've been reading lots of guide books. The adults never seem to know what they want to see, so they ask me for suggestions of places where we'll "fit in." I'm not sure what that means. I just bring us to places that look cool.

I wish we could have stayed in Berlin longer. A strange man ran up to Uncle Wesker while we were looking at the Brandenburg Gate, and gave him a message. Uncle Wesker wouldn't tell us what it said. He just said we had to leave, right away.

I heard him talking to mom and dad later when I was bringing my suitcase to the car.

He said, "...can't be so open any longer. Umbrella is beginning to move. There will be no grace or mercy."

And dad said, "You're so dramatic sometimes, Albert."

Umbrella is the company mom and dad work for. Is he getting fired? Did he not have enough vacation days? We've been gone an awful long time...

* * *

Mission Report

November 22nd, 1998

Mission Parameters: do I really gotta fill this out? You know what this was about.

Report: So I found the house right where intel said it would be. Waited until all the eggheads left, as recommended.

I figured this would be a f- cakewalk. Two kids and a sick woman? Easiest targets in the world, right? Any asshole would jump on a mission like that.

Someone give me a time machine so I can go back and punch myself.

Broke my way in through the back window. Found the smaller brat first, he was easy to catch. The bigger one, the girl, she saw me first and ran out of the room. I picked the boy up and followed her to the living room, where she was cowering next to the fireplace. Two down, one to go, right?

The brat hit me with a f- tire iron! Three times!

Strong arms on that tiny b- and it hurt like balls, but it didn't put me down. She's, what, 12? So I put the other kid down and try to grab the f- thing out of her hands, and then. Then.

The sick woman came up from behind me and dropped an entire crock pot on my head. Have you ever picked up a crock pot? Those things are like 10 pounds. If it weren't for my helmet I'd be f- dead. She grabbed for my gun and started yelling s- in Russian or something. I had to knee her in the stomach to get her off me.

I made a tactical retreat. Look, I've seen Home Alone, I know where this goes. Knowing these freaks, they probably had a couple mutants chained up in the back as guard dogs.

You want to try this again, you better send a full team.

-Agent Ferris

* * *

Article from Cryptid Hunters International

November-December Edition, 1998

Shocking Battle in Germany!

From the forests of Germany, one daring witness has reported direct evidence of the conspiracy we all knew must be hiding the truth.

Two lanky, red-eyed creatures with long black claws were seen fighting a troop of men in black body armor and gas masks. No one has a name for these creatures yet. I propose the 'Schwarzwald Geists'. Our witness says the armed men had no hope of countering these creatures, who could teleport out of the path of gunfire and snapped necks like twigs. Once all the men were dead, the Geists vanished into the trees. Our witness realized it would be a bad idea to linger near the bodies, and beat a hasty retreat herself.

We've had a lot of debate here in the editor's office over which organization these shadowy men might belong too, but no solid evidence for any one.

Keep searching for the truth!

-Ken Longtail

* * *

Memo to Oswell Spencer

November 24th, 1998

Sir Spencer,

We may have erred in administering the final selection virus before confirming subject 013's loyalty.

Nevertheless, we may still benefit from this debacle. It seems Dr. Birkin found a way to not only enhance the virus's performance above all expectations, but to make it manageable for people without subject 013's special blood type and numerous previous enhancements. The possibilities would be endless, if we could only duplicate it.

As the Raccoon lab is toast, I would like to commandeer the facilities on one of our Baltic islands for this research.

-J

* * *

Memo to Chief of Security,

Sergei,

J-'s blunder has cost us immeasurably. Dispense another retirement package.

Alex will be taking over his research in the Baltics. See to it she is secure.

-Spencer

* * *

Note found on desk of rental home, France

Shopping List

Pipettes  
Scalpels (buy bulk)  
Oranges  
Eggs  
Bread  
Mercenary  
Disinfectant  
Milk  
Ammo (9x19 mm parabellum)  
Ramen

* * *

Notes written alongside list:

NO MERCENARIES

Annie come on, Ms. Muller is too sick to lift another crock pot

I don't trust them. They'll teach Sherry bad words.

We don't have the budget for mercenaries, William. Go find a backpacking college student. Someone cheap who won't be missed if things go south.

* * *

Clipping from classifieds page of Le Monde

November 25th, 1998

(translated from bad French)

Wanted: full-time baby-sitter for two children, one 12, one 6. Children are well behaved. Must be ready to take care of the troubled mother and never, ever enter the basement.

English-speakers preferred.

* * *

Note found pinned to clipping of previous article

Never let William write the ad again

* * *

Missing Persons Notice found taped to Paris fence

Have you seen me?

(a picture of a woman in her late twenties and a young boy)

MISSING: (name illegible) and her young son, Jake

This dear friend of mine left her home late last Saturday night and has not come back. I'm afraid a jealous ex-lover may have abducted her and her son. They were last seen on the Rue des Archives, heading east. I fear the worst for both of them and would appreciate any information about their location.

Ms. Muller is a Caucasian woman, about 30 years old, 160 cm tall, with red, curly hair, last seen wearing a blue skirt and gray blouse. Speaks with a heavy eastern European accent.

The boy, Jake, is 6 years old, with the same coloring.

Please contact me if you have any information.

01 41 23 83 60  
Sergei

* * *

Diary of Sherry Birkin

12/01/1998

Jake's mom hasn't been feeling well ever since the scary man attacked us. She can't leave the bed anymore, and she's throwing up a lot. I hope she's going to be OK.

So mom and dad got someone else to help out around the house while they're working. Her name is Claire and she's so cool! She rides a motorcycle and she has a red jacket with an angel on it!

Dad was showing her around the house when Uncle Wesker came home. He kind of froze up when he saw her, like he was really shocked? Then he jumped out the window right before she turned around. Wow, Uncle Wesker's really fast! And really acrobatic (I had to look that word up). I guess it's a police thing.

Claire said, "What was that?"

Dad looked really confused and he wasn't answering, so I said, "My uncle was just here. But he left. I guess he had somewhere to go."

And Claire said, "Oh. Well, I can meet your uncle later, OK?"

Dad said, "Ah. Yes. Anyway, let's bring you over to meet Ms. Muller."

Then Uncle Wesker grabbed dad through the other window while mom was bringing Claire to the bedroom. I wasn't sure whether to follow or not. Uncle Wesker looked really mad.

He said, "William, that is Claire Redfield. Why is she here?"

And dad said, "To watch the kids? Wait—you know her?"

So Uncle Wesker said, "Her brother was in S.T.A.R.S. She's going to recognize me."

Now I get it. It's like the time I pretended to have Naegleriasis so I didn't have to go to school for a week. Mom, dad, and Uncle Wesker must be skipping work so they can finally have a real vacation, and Uncle Wesker's afraid they'll be caught.

He said, "Find someone else!"

And Dad said, "But she's the only applicant who isn't a dirty vagrant AND has weapons training!"

I really wanted her to stay, so I got up on my tip-toes and grabbed Uncle Wesker's sleeve. It was kind of hard to reach because he was still halfway out the window. I said, "Please, can she stay? Please?"

I don't ask for things very much. I stopped trying after the fifth time mom and dad missed the school play. But sometimes, when I do, dad gets this really determined look on his face, and I know he'll do anything to make it happen. Uncle Wesker took one look at him and sighed. He let go of dad and covered his face with a hand. But he said yes!

Dad looked amused. He said, "Looks like you'll be staying in the basement for a while."

Uncle Wesker gave him a mean look and said, "She had better earn her keep."

* * *

Note found hidden in lab desk, basement of rental home

William,

We need a combination lock for the basement door. The current lock is no match for our new babysitter's unexpected talents.

You're lucky I was working my side job when curiosity got the best of her. She ran back upstairs, blushing, before she could see any of the equipment.

-Wesker

* * *

Singed diary page

This has to be the shadiest job I've ever taken. Good going, me, running out of money without getting a work visa so you have to get paid under the table.

At least the forbidden basement thing was just a sex dungeon. I was worried there for a while.

The kids are great though.

I found another lead on Chris. Someone saw him poking around the Umbrella facility here in Par (rest of text is illegible)

* * *

Mission Report

December 13, 1998

Mission Parameters: Capture Sherry Birkin and the Mullers, acquire any data, samples, or equipment on the premises, capture or terminate Albert Wesker, William Birkin, and Annette Birkin if necessary.

Report: Despite the number of false positives we received, the missing persons notices finally paid off. A boy matching the description of Wesker's son was spotted late Thursday afternoon, and we were able to track him to their base.

Given the importance of this mission, and my own personal interest in it, I decided to lead the team myself. We had no trouble entering the property and encountered two of the targets, along with a young woman.

I don't know where the Birkins found this babysitter, but she put down four of my men before we even realized she had a gun. I did not get a very good look at her during the assault. She quickly dove for cover, and chaos ensued from there.

One slip of a girl could not hope to take out my entire team. Unfortunately, she did hold us off long enough for Albert Wesker to return home. I can now confirm without a shadow of a doubt that his revival has granted him augmented abilities. He is superhumanly fast and strong.

Once again we were forced to retreat. Next time, I'm bringing the Ivans with me, risk of exposure or no.

Additional Notes: due to injuries sustained on the mission, I will not be able to take active duty for some time. I am deferring my field duties to Nicolai Zinoviev until my bones set.

Signed,

-Sergei Vladimir, Chief of Security, Head of White Umbrella

* * *

Diary of Sherry Birkin

12/13/98

Uncle Wesker punched a man through a wall today!

But I should back up a bit.

More of those scary men got into the house. Claire protected us. She was really cool! She flipped a couch over and had us all huddle behind it while she shot at the bad guys, just like in a spy movie!

But Jake's mom couldn't get out of bed, and we couldn't reach her. This giant guy with one eye went up to her bedroom and started saying lots of mean things about Uncle Wesker and how she 'must be regretting her mistakes.'

Then there was this black and red blur, and a really loud noise, and the man wasn't standing there anymore. It was just Uncle Wesker, and a big hole in the wall next to him. I knew Uncle Wesker was fast, but I didn't realize he was that fast! He was like Superman!

All the bad guys that hadn't fallen down yet ran away. Claire looked a little lost at all the bodies that were left behind, so I told her how dad taught me what to do with them. She looked really upset. Did I get it wrong? I knew I should have written it down when he first told me.

Claire also recognized Uncle Wesker. Actually, she seemed really happy to see him? I don't think he was expecting that.

* * *

Memo pad found behind bedroom desk, Paris rental house

Anyone,

Why is the babysitter mad at me?

-Will

* * *

Note written under previous note

You taught 12-year-old how dispose bodies. NOT NORMAL.

* * *

Singed diary page

I KNEW I recognized that voice in the basement. That's two whole weeks where my best possible lead was right under my nose, and I didn't realize it.

Sherry talks about her uncle a lot, but I never got the chance to meet him before. He was always leaving before I got here in the morning, and not coming back until after I left. I never imagined he would be Albert Wesker, Chris's captain from S.T.A.R.S.! This is the first survivor I've come across after months of hunting across Europe for them.

Today, that thing I'd been afraid of happened. Umbrella tracked me down here, and they sent men after me. I can't believe them, starting a firefight when there were children nearby! They're the worst. I caught them off guard, that's the only reason I was able to hold off that many as long as I did. Lucky for me, Captain Wesker showed up right when things started going south. I'm not sure what happened exactly. I heard a loud crash, and the next thing I knew their leader was out in the yard and the rest of his men were scattering.

I think I might have startled Captain Wesker with how excited I was to see him. He asked me if I knew what had happened back in Raccoon. All I know is what Chris wrote in his diary before he dropped off the face of the earth: Umbrella developed a virus that turns people into zombies, and Chris came here, to Europe, to investigate their headquarters. Wesker had to turn away for a second when I told him that. Maybe I dredged up some bad memories.

Captain Wesker doesn't know where the other S.T.A.R.S. are, either. The Birkins are former Umbrella researchers who tried to leave once they found out what horrible things were being done with their research. Umbrella's trying to hunt them down, just like me. They're old friends, Captain Wesker and the Birkins, so they've been on the run together all this time.

I told him that according to my last lead, Chris was seen going into Umbrella's HQ here in Paris. He never came back out. I'm so worried—what if he's trapped in there, in their labs? God, what if they're using him as a test subject? I'm on the verge of doing something desperate.

This evening, Wesker sent the kids to stay with Ms. Muller and gathered the rest of us around the kitchen table. He explained what had happened today, and what my situation was. He said we'd spent enough time gathering intel, and it was time to go on the offensive.

No more running. We're going to make Umbrella sorry.

* * *

 **End note** : So, while trying her hand at her own translation of the Japanese Resident Evil, my friend discovered two things about original flavor Albert Wesker.

1) He is flirty as hell, and yet fairly grumpy about it.

2) He seems to like women who are rude, tough, insubordinate, and capable of kicking ass.

And that's why I wrote Ms. Muller the way I did.


	3. Umbrella and the Terrible Year

**Chapter 3: Umbrella and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Year**

Or, In which a Small Band of Very Angry Scientists and One College Student Resolve Several Games' Worth of Crises in a Madcap Onslaught of Explosions.

* * *

Article from Le Monde

December 19th, 1998

Umbrella Headquarters Attacked!

An explosion rocked the business quarter of Paris in the sleepy pre-dawn hours of morning. The DuMont building, current home of the multinational pharmaceutical giant Umbrella, suffered an attack by unknown assailants at 3 a.m. Fire and police crews arrived at the scene only to be denied entrance by Umbrella's security staff, who insisted the attack had caused a leak of dangerous chemicals throughout the building.

Two full hours would pass before the company allowed anyone, even the firemen, to enter their doors. By that time, their laboratory complex was completely engulfed in flame. Despite massive structural damage, the main office building remains standing. The surrounding block has still been evacuated as a safety precaution.

Several radical environmentalist groups have claimed credit for the attack. Police have not named a suspect at this time.

Umbrella's only comment to the press has been a warning that the leaked chemicals could cause hallucinations to anyone in the surrounding area, and that this may explain several reports of 'monsters' sighted within the building's upper windows.

-Christine Leroux

* * *

Incident Report

December 20th, 1998

Pertaining to the attack on our Paris HQ December 19th, 1998

It is everything we feared and worse.

At 0230 we were alerted to an intruder within the building. I sent out the usual response of two heavily armed teams to capture the intruder. Upon determining it was the infamous Claire Redfield, I sent a 3rd team.

We soon became aware of two very unpleasant facts. First, that the Redfield sister has joined forces with our rogue scientists. Second, that Dr. Birkin has acquired tentacles.

We discovered both these things when the assault helicopter sent after Redfield was grabbed out of the air and slammed into the ground by a purple appendage the width of a tree trunk. Dr. Birkin was then heard cackling and gloating about his abilities to Albert Wesker, who we may assume does not possess the same mutation.

Redfield was a distraction, and we fell for it. The rogue scientists were able to access our labs, plunder our data, and activate the self-destruct. They also unleashed a number of B.O.W.s on the office building. As we do not house many specimens here, they must have brought their own.

I do not know how they acquired access to the labs in the first place. This security leak must be dealt with.

-Temporary Chief of Security, Nikolai Zinoviev

* * *

Printout left in corner of rental house basement, Paris

Rockfort Island Facility Evaluation

Attn: Chief of Security

CC: Sir Oswell Spencer

Renovations on the prison and training facilities are at 90% completion and expected to finish within the month. The training facilities have received additions of questionable utility, and we are getting numerous complaints from recruits about 'that cackling lunatic,' Alfred Ashford, and his new training programs. However, the results cannot be questioned. The survivors complete their training in record time and perform better in the field than any of the mercenaries we've picked up from South America.

As to the science side of the Ashford properties, they are as stagnant as ever. Only a handful of successful B.O.W.s have come out of their labs in the past 2 years, all of limited combat potential. Alfred simply does not share the same genius his sister once had.

There is an odd rumor going around the island on that subject. Some of the recruits say they have seen glimpses of a blonde woman in the upper windows of the closed-off Ashford manor. Normally I would not report the gossiping of the men, however, when I questioned Alfred on the subject his reaction was so extreme and violent I became suspicious. Could s _he_ still be alive?

I've asked Henrich to have a closer look at their budget reports over the last ten years. I have a feeling there's something in the works there which we have not been told about.

-Gerlach

* * *

Notes written on printout:

THAT BITCH IS ALIVE SHE MUST BE DESTROYED

We are not chasing a rumor just to fulfill your old, petty vendetta. Another expensive attack is the last thing we need.

IT IS COMPLETELY NECESSARY

* * *

Note found crumpled in park trash can

Albert,

I see you're making your move. Would you like some more funds? 'Father' just happened to have a lot of money sitting around which he's not using.

-A

* * *

Singed note, found in mine shaft on Baltic island

A,

You may never understand the context for this. I just want you to know that you are a terrible enabler.

-Albert

* * *

Singed Diary Page

(illegible text)

Wesker said he wished to do this with a little more 'subtlety.' Dr. Birkin insists explosions are more efficient. And you know what? I agree with him. Annette thinks it's more satisfying, so that was three against...(illegible text)

...too dangerous to stay in France any longer, but Ms. Muller can't...(illegible text)

...leaving her in a hospital in...(illegible text)

I hope she'll be okay there. Umbrella's not above using our loved ones against us. Wesker tells me the best solution is to keep her somewhere they'll never...(illegible text)

(remainder of page missing)

* * *

Note found in German Hostel

Claire,

There are important things I must tell you about new friends before you go, things I should not say in their face. So I write this for you. My English not so good but I try my best. Stay safe please.

INSTRUCTIONS FOR KEEP IDIOTS ALIVE:

Albert's small friend not sleep enough, works to death. Drug tea if need. Albert show where.

And Albert. My mišić not sleep enough either. Do not drug, he gets mad. Get kids to nag him. I tell him he has too many job, he does not listen.

NONE OF THEM COOK. I catch girl microwaving peanut butter on—I do not know word for, the flat disk bread from Mexico. My mišić only eats carry-away and the doctors live on noodles. Make sure they get 3 proteins and their vegetables every week. Jake best likes apples.

DO NOT LET THEM TEACH JAKE THINGS. You know which? The body disposal, attacking intruders, these things. Kids should not know these things.

If attacked, lady doctor is better shot than husband. Give her gun.

Watch out for my mišić. Is big charmer when he wants to be. Thinks 'sterile,' is not!

* * *

Report covered in graffiti, taped together from shreds found in waste basket

I am keeping this record separate from the rest of our research so William doesn't find it.

YOU NEED A BETTER HIDING PLACE :(

As I feared, Rockfort Island contained nothing worth our time. We targeted the labs first so the virus could leak and wipe out most of the staff. Some of the prisoners survived the attack. Claire was very insistent we get them to safety. I tried to explain they would be mostly Umbrella employees, however she was too busy flirting with one—a young red-head who sounds like he swallowed a kazoo—to pay any attention.

Claire's morality causes us grief at times. It is well worth putting up with it, knowing how her brother will react when he discovers who his dear sister is working for. Perhaps I should send him some photos?

AL YOU HAVE A PROBLEM

Did I say the young prisoner had an annoying voice? Alfred Ashford was _far_ worse.

INBREEDING!

It is only still more evidence of Umbrella's poor judgment that Alfred was left in charge of anything. The loneliness and stress of leadership clearly shattered his mind into confetti.

PREACH!

It turns out the trauma of his sister's early death caused Alfred to develop a second personality which believed itself to be his dead sister. The sightings of the blonde woman in the Ashford Manor were none other than himself, in drag. How sad. William lost all interest in the raid once he realized Alexia wasn't present. He went off to sulk in the plane while we wrapped things up.

WAS NOT.

As I wanted to get _something_ out of this debacle besides a gang of liberated prisoners and some sniper rounds embedded in my shoulder, I insisted we check out the old Antarctic facility.

The place was already teeming with zombies when we got there. No, I do not know how, nor for how long. Perhaps improper sample storage...? At any rate, we soon discovered Alexia _was_ alive. She had injected herself with her own strain of T, dubbed T-Veronica, and put herself in cryosleep for 15 years. It's fascinating. Her method of stably integrating the virus into her system worked, without help from my antibodies. She revived without mutation, all faculties intact and zero evidence of intellectual degradation. A more perfect illusion of humanity than even my own.

WASN'T MUCH TO DEGRADE

That is, until she decided to set herself on fire, triggering a cascade of mutations that left her covered in slimy, chitinous growths. I was so confused by this action that I did not react before she slapped me across the room. William was more than happy to take over the fight from there, so I left them brawling while I helped Claire spread the C4.

I TOLD YOU SHE'S A MORON. WHO PUT THIS IDIOT KID IN CHARGE OF HER OWN LAB?

I managed to save some samples of the T-Veronica for study. I'll have to do it while William's away from the lab.

THEY'RE TRASH AND THEY BELONG IN THE TRASH. YOU'RE WELCOME.

* * *

Singed note found in office ruins

A,

It doesn't look like we'll be able to have our usual commiseration night this year. Sherry insists we have a proper Christmas and I don't think I'll be able to slip away.

-Albert

P. S. If I die, you're not going to develop a split personality and dress up as me, are you?

* * *

Note found in rubbish bin along London street

Albert,

A shame. Shall we postpone it to New Year's, then?

-A

P.S. Why would I want to copy your outdated 1976 David Bowie style? I'll put your sunglasses up on the mantle, how's that.

* * *

Security Report

December 23rd, 1998

We can now add Rockfort Island to the list of facilities which have been demolished in the past six months. But why a backwater base like Rockfort? I will not waste everyone's time with obvious questions like 'who is responsible.' I'm sure we can all guess.

I understand the Ashfords and Birkin did once have a feud, but it seems unreasonably petty for him to wipe out a base on account of a 15-year-old rivalry. Perhaps there is something we have missed?

In any case, we must tighten security on our other labs. Production is down 30%, and we cannot afford more public attention. CEO Spencer has authorized the deployment of Nemesis, as well as any of the better behaved mass-produced Tyrants.

It is time we took the gloves off.

-Temporary Chief of Security, Nikolai Zinoviev

* * *

Memo to temporary chief of security

Silver Wolf,

Yes, he can be that petty.

-Sergei

* * *

Diary of Sherry Birkin

12/24/98

Christmas in England Is SO COOL!

All the store windows have these awesome moving figures and robots and we had to drag Jake away from the Fenwicks because he wouldn't stop watching the model train. Mom bought me a big tin of cookies with a music box in it! It plays The Holly and the Ivy and it's really pretty.

There's no snow, and it gets dark by the middle of the afternoon, but that's okay. I don't like snow very much. It's only good for canceling school.

I thought carolers were just something you see in movies but they really do it here! And they take it _really seriously!_ One guy wouldn't leave our doorstep until we gave him some mulled wine. And he kept singing louder and more off-key until Uncle Wesker ran out and got him some. I'm not sure what 'mulled' means. Maybe it thinks really hard?

There was one really weird caroler who came by after dark. He was REALLY tall, and wearing a big trench coat and reindeer antlers, and he wasn't singing with the rest of the group. He just scowled. Uncle Wesker kind of froze up after he opened the door and saw him. The carolers were barely through the first verse of 'We Wish You a Merry Christmas' when the trench coat guy punched Uncle Wesker! He went flying all the way into the kitchen!

Mom was just coming around the corner, and Wesker only missed her by like an inch. She stopped and said, "W-Wesker?"

Uncle Wesker got up and ran back to the door. He said, "I'll handle it," and then he tackled the guy back through the door. I didn't see where they went after that.

So I asked mom, "Was he mad because we didn't give him wine?"

And one of the other carolers laughed in a nervous way and said, "Think that one's had enough already." Then they left.

(That means he was drunk.)

Uncle Wesker didn't get back until after my bedtime. I'm still awake now because I'm too excited. I can't wait to open presents tomorrow! I hope everyone likes my gifts. I was even able to find dad a godzilla figure he doesn't already have! (he pretends they weren't important enough to bring but I saw them hidden in a box under some beakers)

I should try to go to sleep. The sooner I sleep, the sooner I can see what I got!

* * *

Article from the North Yorkshire News

December 30th, 1998

Hooligans Cause Late Night Ruckus

Police responded to numerous noise complains late last night in Hampsthwaite. About four people, reports say, were running about the countryside, one of whom was dressed in a long black trench coat, and arguing loudly and setting off small explosions. Mr. Wycott, age 53, who lives on Hollins Lane, says he was awakened by a boom directly in his back garden.

He said, "Bugger kids setting off crackers at one in the morning. They blew a hole in our garden wall, they did. Who's supposed to pay for the damages on it now?"

The vandals could not be found, however, it seems at least one of them may have met a bad end, as a scrap of black leather was found caught on the rocks within the Bolton Strid, that infamous stretch of water whose powerful currents have claimed the lives of any unfortunate who mistakes the thin stream for an innocent brook.

Police are continuing to search the area, but the Bolton Strid runs deep, with numerous pockets carved out underneath the rock. If anyone did fall in, a body may never be found.

-Mary Watts

* * *

Singed Diary Page

Holy shit that freak had a rocket launcher. A _rocket launcher_.

 _What is wrong with Umbrella._

* * *

Cryptid Hunters International

January-February Edition, 1999

Tentacled Beast in the River Wharfe!

A monstrosity straight out of Lovecraft's worst nightmares has been terrorizing farmers all up and down Wensleydale in the United Kingdom. The beast, a hulking crossbreed of man and octopus the size of two men, rose from the riverbed early Saturday morning and has been wandering the countryside ever since. We have chosen to call it the Wensleydale Whipper.

The Whipper is said to have devoured not one but several sheep, and none of the angry farmers who confronted it have come back alive. The Whipper was last spotted far to the south of its point of origin, inside Dartmoor National Park, where a contingent of armed men chased it into a crate and airlifted it away.

Never stop searching for the truth, no matter how hard they try to hide it!

 _-_ Ken Longtail

* * *

Note found hidden in basement desk, German rental home

Will,

Next time you see Chris or Jill, give me warning so I can steer Claire away from them. We got lucky on Sheena Island. If you let them meet, I guarantee we will lose your favorite babysitter.

-Wesker

* * *

Note written on previous note

Al,

You're not fooling anyone. Someone snuck condoms on to the shopping list and I know it wasn't Annette.

-Will

* * *

Security update

April 23rd, 1999

Sir Spencer,

I return to my duties in time to give you a great deal of bad news. Now I understand why Nikolai was so smug about returning to his previous position.

The Tyrant plant on Sheena Island and our R&D labs in Chicago have both been hit. If I were not sure how badly our two enemies would like to kill each other, I would suspect them of coordinating. Both were sighted during the attack on Sheena Island.

If they follow their current trend and continue targeting our B.O.W. Production, they are most likely to come to Caucasus next. I have already tightened security as much as I can, and I will be staying there with the Red Queen to watch over it myself. This crisis will not end until those traitors are destroyed. We MUST catch them.

Our rogues have also inspired copycats. Do you recall that useless daydreamer, Morpheus D. Duvall, director of our Atlantic disposal facility? I would hope you do, as you fired him after laying the blame for the Arklay outbreak at his feet. I remain impressed that you pulled that off, given everyone knew he was in the middle of an ocean at the time. He has decided it is a fine time to take revenge on Umbrella. After decimating the Chicago lab and stealing samples of the T virus, he hijacked one of our luxury cruise liners, the Spencer Rain, and has sent us several threatening messages.

I have leaked rumors that Duvall also stole a sample of the G virus. With luck, the right ears will catch it, and one of our problems will take care of the other.

Everything for Umbrella,

-Sergei Vladimir

* * *

Company Memo

April 25th, 1999

In light of our recent difficulties, I have determined it prudent to take a short sabbatical while I rethink our company's direction and brainstorm solutions to the challenges we face.

For now, the daily operation of both red and white umbrella will fall to Sergei Vladimir, head of white Umbrella.

Signed,

Oswell Spencer,

Umbrella Founder and CEO

* * *

Singed Diary Page

Jesus Dr. Birkin almost gave me a heart attack this morning. Things I don't want to hear on walking through the door a week after dodging more of those trench-coat freaks:

"William, no."

"But they have my baby!"

Both him and Wesker got really awkward and quiet when I barged in asking if Sherry was okay and how they got her. Turns out Sherry was in the kitchen, eating cereal with Jake, totally fine. I'm still not sure what 'baby' Dr. Birkin was really talking about.

It turns out some creep from Umbrella has stolen the T virus and flooded a cruise ship with it. I'm fuzzy on the details, but I guess he was fired and wants to take revenge? I don't see how infecting a bunch of innocent bystanders helps with that. God, does Umbrella have some kind of special psyche tests during the hiring process to make sure they don't employ any sane or well-adjusted people by accident?

So I asked them when we were moving and how we were planning to take this guy down. William got really excited—typical, he loves explosions too much for a virologist—and Wesker just face-palmed. Annette sighed and said she'd always wanted to take a cruise.

(remainder of page missing)

* * *

Diary of Sherry Birkin

4/20/99

Mom, Dad, and Uncle Wesker got back from their cruise today. I'm still really mad at them for not taking us along, so I've been staying in my room with Jake and Claire. Claire really wanted to go too, but she had to stay and watch us. Why couldn't we all just go?

It doesn't look like they had much fun. Mom has a black eye, and Dad lost his eyebrows. I tried to ask how that happened and they just looked at each other. Then mom said, "drunks."

We've been having a lot of problems with mean drunks these days. They're always wearing trench coats and scowling. I think alcohol is a bad thing.

Dad's been yelling a lot, too, when he thinks I'm not around. Weird stuff like, "Flesh heels! _Flesh heels!_ How could any self-respecting scientist confuse that junk for my masterpiece?"

Maybe dad's drunk too?

* * *

Final Report

March 9th, 1999

Sir Spencer,

I am sending this to you now, so however this ends, you will have an idea what happened.

As I write this, the Caucasus facility is under attack from two fronts. On one side we have the meddling S.T.A.R.S. survivors. On the other, Wesker and Birkin. Both groups decided to attack at 0300 hours. I barely had time to throw my coat over my pajamas as the alarms went off.

I have released the T virus and every last B.O.W. throughout the facility, so no one will greet our friends but monsters. I have no hope that this will stop them. I only know that Wesker loathes dealing with the products of his own creations.

I take some satisfaction in knowing I am not the only one to suffer a Wesker-style goodbye. I was watching on the cameras when the younger Redfield was reunited with her brother. I can guess from the shock and rage on her face just what he told her.

Wesker waved to her from up on the catwalk before an explosion covered his escape. I would say the rosy days of that partnership are over. Later, Wesker threw a small notebook into the fire. If enough of the facility is left standing, it may be worth recovering.

At this moment, the S.T.A.R.S. survivors plus Claire Redfield are fighting the T.A.L.O.S. prototype. I see from the cameras that Wesker and Birkin have made their way to the bottom level, and are quickly approaching this room. They have defeated both my Ivans.

As a man, I cannot match their strength. As a Tyrant, I may have a chance. I have already prepared a syringe of the T virus for injection. Soon, we will see how Wesker likes breaking walls with his face.

One way or another, this place will burn. I will do what I can to take them with me.

Everything for Umbrella,

-Sergei Vladimir

* * *

Note found in ruined office, Baltic island

March 9th, 1999

Alex,

Sergei has fallen.

I want you near me. Your vengeful 'brother' may come after you next.

Bump research on reproducing his virus to top priority.

-Spencer

* * *

Note found in wastebasket, Polish hostel

Albert,

I found him.

Shall we do the honors together?

-A

* * *

Article from The Raccoon Press

March 14th, 1999

The End of Umbrella?

The world was shocked today when Oswell E. Spencer, CEO and founder of pharmaceutical giant Umbrella, Inc., was found murdered in his stately home late last night. A maid discovered the 76-year-old corporate mogul laid out on the floor of his library, apparently stabbed through the chest with an unknown object.

Yet the murder was not the most scandalous discovery of that stormy night. Stacked up beside the corpse was a small mountain of printed files, correspondence, lab data and other evidence of a dark underside to Umbrella which no one suspected. It documented years of illegal, unethical experiments on human subjects, black market dealings, bribery of public officials, kidnapping, and extortion.

This blow comes shortly on the heels of the death of another leading executive, one Sergei Vladimir, who died along with numerous Umbrella employees after a disastrous accident at one of their chemical plants. As the company struggles to appoint a successor in the wake of these deaths, numerous countries, including the U.S., have imposed a suspension of business decree on the multinational corporation, pending an investigation into Umbrella's practices.

Spokespersons for Umbrella hotly deny the legitimacy of this evidence, claiming it has all been fabricated by a group of insane environmental activists. Police investigating the crime scene declined to comment at this time.

-Alyssa Ashcroft

* * *

End Note: R.I.P. Sergei, you were the most entertaining to write. And R.I.P. Spencer, you still win the biggest asshole of the century award.

Just got the epilogues to go now.


	4. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Or, in which most things are resolved and many characters get relatively happy endings, even if they really shouldn't. But hasn't that been the point of the story?

* * *

Email to private server

Wesker,

Buddy, pal, hey, how you doing? I heard you've been busy lately. Too busy to check in on an old friend like me, huh. But don't worry about it.

Hey, a little birdie told me you're in need of a new direction now that you're done blowing things up. I just might have an idea about that new direction. There's a buddy of mine, friend of a friend of a friend, you know, he knows a guy in Japan who could be veeeery interested in investing in your work.

Might be worth checking out?

You know my finder's fee's reasonable.

-Irving

* * *

Diary of Sherry Birkin  
June 1st, 1999

WE'RE GOING TO JAPAN!

I'm not supposed to know yet but I overheard Uncle Wesker talking to dad about a new job he found.

Uncle Wesker was saying, "...he definitely has the money to keep us employed for a long time, should he wish."

And dad said, "But what does a yakuza boss want with B.O.W.s? He's not going to deploy them for some petty turf war in Tokyo, is he? The chances of an outbreak..."

What's a B.O.W.? Is it an acronym? Maybe...big old wasps? Bent orange washing machines?

Uncle Wesker said, "He wants to fight them in his basement and charge people to watch." So I guess it's not washing machines.

Dad looked kind of goggle-eyed. He said, "His...basement?" And his voice squeaked a bit.

Uncle Wesker said, "To be more precise, the secret cage fighting arena he constructed underneath his office building."

Why would you fight cages? Anyway, Dad still looked really shocked. I think if Uncle Wesker had flicked his forehead, he would have fallen over.

Until Uncle Wesker said, "He wants a new one every month."

Dad still looks like it's Christmas again.

So I'm pretty sure we're going to Japan. That's where Tokyo is! It's too bad Claire can't come with us. I guess she had to go home with her brother. Jake's not coming either, he had to go back to his mom. It feels a little lonely just thinking about it. But, I'll be OK.

We've got a new person coming with us! Someone we really weren't expecting.

When Uncle Wesker came back from dropping Jake off, he had this woman with him. She looked really glamorous, like she should be on a magazine cover or something. Dad got really twitchy and grumbled about picking up more strays now that they were finally getting 'back on track.'

Then Uncle Wesker said, "This is Alex. My...sister, more or less."

A SISTER! How many secret family members does Uncle Wesker have?! Does Jake know he has an aunt?

Dad got really upset again, and he said, "Sister? You have a sister? How many years have we—"

"You never asked."

Dad pouted on the couch for the rest of the day.

Alex is a lot like her brother, but I haven't known her as long so she's kind of intimidating. She likes books a lot and she's been asking me what classics I've read. She's going to be staying with us for a while, so I hope I can get to know her.

Sometimes, I feel like I should be missing home more than I do. But. I get to spend so much more time with mom and dad, and Uncle Wesker, and we've seen so many cool places and people. I just wish we didn't have to run around all the time. I'm so sick of the car.

* * *

Note to Jake

I'm sure that one day you will have a lot of questions for me, when you're old enough to understand. For now, you're too small to retain the answers, so I'm writing you this note. Read it when you're older.

Yes, I've sent you back to your mother. No, I'm not, and never will, coming to stay with you two. If this trip has taught me anything, it is that my lifestyle is not suitable for children or civilians. Multiple people have told me I shouldn't be allowed to parent, anyway.

I will visit you once a year to deliver the requisite gifts and do fatherly things, like teaching you to flirt or shoot guns.

Here's your first dose of wisdom:

 **Become whatever you want**. Unlike certain friends I could mention, I will not have an aneurysm should you choose to shun science. You can even join INTERPOL or become a medical doctor if the fancy strikes you. The rivalry could be amusing.

 **Never let anyone walk over you.** That may be difficult at your age, however, just because you are currently wired to be an information sponge does not mean you must blindly bow to every adult's whim and absorb whatever they tell you without thinking.

 **Never make trouble for yourself.** No matter how badly you may wish to attack someone who is wronging you, hold yourself back. Wait, and watch, until the opportunity arises for you to take your revenge with minimum chance of retaliation. Manipulation is always more cost-effective than brute force.

There. That should you tide you over until you reach puberty. I'll see you next July.

-Albert Wesker

* * *

Letter to Sherry Birkin  
June 5th, 1999

Sherry I miss yoo. We had fun. But I am happy with mom now.

I had a salad. It was green.

Weird guy brought me to mom. He gave me a note. It is too hard to reed. Mom said to reed it when I'm big.

I want to bee big now so I can see yoo.

Bye!

-Jake

* * *

Notes attached to letter

FRAME THIS. Also, Jake is marrying Sherry when they're old enough. I will accept no arguments.

Honey, they're children.

NO ARGUMENTS. Think of the GENES, Annie!

* * *

Note found taped to fridge

Will, Albert,

While we're moving things to Japan, why don't we take a trip back to Raccoon and see if we can pick up a few things we left behind? I'm sure the new homeowners wouldn't have found the secret wall.

* * *

Clipping from Cryptid Hunters International found stapled to previous note

May-June Edition, 1999

New sightings in the woods outside Midwestern Raccoon City!

(very blurry black and white picture of what might be a face)

In addition to the Arklay Devil Dogs and Mountain Man Eaters already reported in the area, intrepid hunters in this remote region have sent us another story about a truly terrifying creature.

Two hikers were poking around the ruins of a burned-out mansion when they stumbled across a nightmare beyond imagining. They found this ghoul crouched over the body of a Mountain Man Eater, chewing on its corpse.

The 10 Faced Howler, as we have dubbed it, resembles a skeletal woman with elongated arms, a nest of gawping faces piled around her head and shoulders, and purple snakes sprouting from her head mass. The hikers were so shocked by the Howler's ghastly appearance that they watched, petrified, as it slowly straightened and turned towards them.

The Howler hobbled closer, giving the illusion of slowness. The hikers backed away. Then, without warning, the Howler jumped 15 feet and landed on one of the hapless men, knocking his sunglasses off and slamming his head into the ground. His brave companion thought quickly, and distracted the ghoul with a camera flash. This allowed both hikers to escape while the Howler was screaming. Fortunately for our witnesses, the Howler was not difficult to outrun despite her impressive jumping abilities.

Rumors suggest this creature is especially aggressive towards women and blond men with sunglasses. If you fit into either of these categories, you might want to take extra care while traveling through the region.

Keep searching for the truth!

-Ken Longtail

* * *

Article from Popular Science Today  
September Edition, 1999

Mystery Skeletons in Tokyo Bay

Marine biologists have worked themselves up into a tizzy after the discovery of several unidentified animal remains along the bay of Tokyo.

"I've never seen anything like it," says Doctor Jun Kobayashi, a researcher who has been studying fish populations in the area. "I'm not even sure these were marine animals. The bone structure clearly indicates a hexapodal vertebrate, something never before seen on this planet."

Doctor Fumi Asato, a professor at the Tokai University, on the other hand, remains skeptical. "They're just whale bones," she says. "It's always whale bones."

The bones were discovered by a local fisherman who stumbled across them on the way to his boat. To add to the mystery, the fisherman says that several of the bones appeared to be burned and half-melted, as if dipped in acid and set on fire. No one is sure what could have caused such damage.

Due to a miscommunication, the bones were sent to the wrong biology lab for examination, and have since disappeared. While there are some wild rumors about a government cover-up, Doctor Kobayashi is confident that the remains will turn up eventually.

"They're probably just sitting in a basement somewhere. Mix-ups happen."

-Daisuke Hirano

* * *

She shut the folder with a snap. It was done. Every piece of evidence she had found after months of traveling and careful scouring had been placed in rough chronological order, piecing together a trail that snaked back and forth all across Europe. Finally, she knew where they were. And this time, she wouldn't arrive on their doorstep only to find an empty home and a few forgotten scraps of paper.

Rebecca Chambers tucked the folder inside her luggage. On the table beside her sat an application to Princeton's PhD program, every section filled in with careful, precise cursive save one glaring empty spot: her work history. She glared down upon it with determination as she booked her flight to Japan.

One way or another, she was getting that goddamn recommendation letter.

 **The End**

* * *

End note: And that's all she wrote! I hope you enjoyed this crazy ride and thank you for following it to the end.


End file.
